Broken Glass
by ChrysosArgentum
Summary: Abuse at a young age shatters Harry's mind. How is life different with a broken Boy-Who-Lived. Can the Order put him back together with Snape's expertise and Sirius' love in time to save the world? Dissociative Identity Disorder/Multiple Personality. Mild Creature!Harry. Slash!Harry. Slytherin alter. Read and Review!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer-****Jk owns the universe, ****I just fuck with the characters.**

**AN-**** Hey People! I am alive. Anyhow I can make all the excuses I want but ultimatly, I just a lazy arse with a lack of inspiration. In the meantime however, I have come up with this. I know its not exactly an original piece of writing but I'd like to do it justice.**

**It will be cliche to begin with but trust me when I say it's going to be majorly different.**

_In regards to this work I'd like to make a few comments quickly before we start.  
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_-Firstly, the medical accuracy of this work is relative. I've tried as hard as I can to research and make it relevent, but bear in mind I've made this disorder magical so there will be some things that are different.  
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_-Secondly, there are many sections before 5th year where there is no details put in at all. This is mainly because before then the fic doesn't really start and this is more of a long prologue. Assume canon occurances and they only dffer in relation to how many of them do in earlier similar situations.  
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_-Finally, I mean no offense to anyone in how I script JK's characters. There will be some differences in personality to canon to help the story evolve. Particularl y in the birth of 'Daniel', I don't want to come across as making comments about anyones personal lives and belief's, but I am going with what some people felt at that time, whether you did or not makes no difference to my story._**  
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**All the best, and I hope you enjoy it! Review or ask me anything after please!**

* * *

**Broken Glass**

**Prologue**

- August 1995-

_15 years old_

Harry James Potter was an unusual boy in several ways. He was extremely hated by his closest living relatives that also happened to be his guardians, he attended a magical school hidden away from view where he studied how to change tables into tea cups, and he suffered from a fairly rare and complex condition known as Dissociate Identity Disorder.

Not that Harry himself actually _was aware _to the extent his family hated him, was particularly expert at changing tables into tea cups or actually _knew_ anything at all about his condition. His 'alters' had a range of ages and maturities and had all developed over time, but as far as Harry was concerned his suffered from memory loss and headaches, while carefully concealed glamours covered his more suspicious marks.

The alters wanted to stay hidden to protect Harry, but as he grew older it was becoming harder to stop the suspicious looks and Harry's confusion. It wouldn't be good for their host to tell someone they couldn't trust about his symptoms so the 'leaders' of the group were considering letting someone they could trust know, but who could they trust with the secrets of how they had all fractured so?

* * *

-March1985-

_4 years old_

Young Harry was having an alright day. If he lived with anyone other than his current guardians, he would probably remark it were a _good _day or, dare he think it and _excellent_ day. However the Dursleys were difficult to deal with and living with them was not only depressing but extremely changeable and so it was never a clever thing to tempt fate and admit (even to himself) that any day were considered good.

Harry lived in the small dark cupboard under the stairs, lived on scraps of food after his beefy uncle and large cousin had eaten several servings and had no clothes other than the ones his cousin had outgrown. This was okay for him though, because his parents were worthless drunkards who had no money and had got themselves killed and it wasn't for his aunt to pay for things for him.

He spent most of his days locked away, but was pleased to be allowed to attend school last autumn where he got to learn and even sometimes play! His cousin, Dudley was very popular and everyone liked him which meant nobody liked Harry and quite often bullied him but that was okay because he was a freak and most things were his fault anyway.

Quite often things in the house would go wrong, like one of the light bulbs would blow, or a shelf would come loose or even Dudley's toys would get broken and he knew it was because he was there- his Aunt Petunia told him. Usually he would get a slap on the face from her, or if his Uncle Vernon were home he'd get a few heavy uncles but they always healed overnight and he did deserve it. He even made Dudley brake his leg once when he tripped down the stairs. Harry had been in the cupboard when he heard his cousin fall and had been given a bigger punishment for this.

Today though, his uncle had gone to the local pub with friends from work to celebrate a large order of drills they'd sold. It was about 10 in the evening but because Dudley hadn't got school tomorrow he was still up and Harry was sitting in the corner doing his cousins homework. Suddenly, the door banged open announcing his uncles return and he stumbled into the front room.

One look at the boy sitting happily on the floor smiling slightly and Uncle Vernon grabbed the child by the scruff of his thin neck and threw him bodily into the kitchen- uncaring that he hit the wall on the way. Harry's aunt raised a thin eyebrow at the inebriated state of her husband but didn't raise a voice to stop him as the boy did deserve it.

"Who said you could sit in our front room boy?" Uncle Vernon shouted at the child that was quivering on the floor, holding his bruised shoulder with tears on his cheeks. _What had he done wrong? "_You need to be taught a lesson boy! We wouldn't have you in the house or anywhere near us if you hadn't been dumped on us like a dirty little stray." the man slurred.

Vernon took off his belt and started to whip the by with it mercilessly, the alcohol in his blood making him all the more violent and uncaring about where he hit. The heavy metal buckle thrashed back, neck, legs, and head unspecific ally until the crying child was covered in red marks and blood where it had broken his skin. Happy with the job, Vernon threw the boy into the cupboard and locked it.

That night Harry was inconsolable, although he kept himself deadly quiet from absolute terror. He'd thought that this was his home, where even if his family didn't like him they were still relatives. That they cared a little bit. This clearly wasn't the case. He hadn't done anything! No broken toys, or hurt cousins or noises or dirt on carpets or anything. And his aunt hadn't helped so she didn't care either.

The Dursleys were his only living relatives and he wanted them to like him, he wanted them to have some concern over his wellbeing and he didn't want to be beaten by his uncle, he didn't want his family to do that. It wasn't normal and _he wasn't allowed to be abnormal _that the bad, Bad, BAD! Like a an already cracked piece of glass, the his mind couldn't handle the pressure and spilt down the fissure.

The idea that his uncle could do that, that he was hated enough for his aunt and cousin not to care was to much pressure for his mind. In a moment Boy was born and cast away from Harry along with all the memories of tonight and every time his uncle had hit him physically.

At 4 years old, there wasn't much to Boy, he was nothing more than defence to his uncles violent attacks that would continue with increasing severity, even without alcohol, over time. All boy could understand was guilt for his actions, the intense hate for him of his relatives and pain, pain, pain.

* * *

-October 1985-

_5 years old_

Safe with Boy tucked away at the back of his mind, Harry would life to be if not relaxing, then at least regular. His relatives didn't like him and blamed everything that went wrong on him, but he was enjoying school and sleeping better than before. The only odd thing were the funny times he forgot what he'd been doing last, and usually found bruises afterwards but he was 5 and probably fell over and blacked out so it didn't bother him all that much.

Recently his aunt had asked him to do more around the house and earn his keep, so being the eager to please young child he was he happily took on the tasks of weeding the garden and tiding his cousins room and chopping and peeling the vegetables for his aunt.

Most people would be shocked that any child could successfully chop anything without losing several fingers but Harry had always been good with his hands- his long fingers were quite dexterous, making his writing neat with either right or left- and he was much more mature than anyone his age. This was probably because of his intelligence which was more around the age of 6 or 7.

Slowly the workload increased and he had to spend more and more time with his aunt who was quick to insult him and that out her anger and frustrations on her nephew. As his chore list got longer and longer he found himself more and more frustrated that he had to do them when he wanted to play and run around and do homework. His aunt insulted him all the time and he hated it because it made him feel so small and stupid but he knew he couldn't reply.

Today she was giving the finer details on why he was a waste of space and he really wanted to shout at her but he couldn't because that wasn't nice and then she would hate him even more, and his head was hurting and he felt all hot and again that part deep in his mind couldn't take the pressure of his thoughts and with _snap! _it broke off.

The new personality born was okay with her Aunt Petunia's insults because she had selective hearing. When she was happily doing a task that she loved like cleaning and cooking and stirring the stew pot and watering the plants she was oblivious to the world around and anything anyone said that was nasty.

She had the mentality of a 5 year old, but was much more developed in how she went about her chores and that was all she could learn. She also always knew when to listen to what people were saying for new instructions because of her amazing intuition. She looked up to her aunt and wanted to be just like her when she grew up.

Missy, as she wanted to be called, completed all the chores for Harry when he came back from school and at the weekends and loved spending time in the garden. The only problem was when Dudley started to mock Harry about his chores and Harry couldn't understand what he meant.

Harry's mind was magical and thus an adaptable place so a window formed between Harry's consciousness and Missy's so that he remembered having done the chores. Nothing specific was remembered and he didn't know Missy was there but it helped him understand what Dudley meant and excused the blanks in his memory.

* * *

-July 1986-

_5 - 6 years old_

Harry's life had been weird for the last few months and his aunt and uncle weren't happy with him. Recently strange things ad started happening starting with him changing his teachers hair blue and then he'd even managed to fly onto the school building in March!

After that he'd tried to play with this power and had found he could light a little black fire in his hand, and even made it take the shape of a dog a few times when he'd been playing in the park. He liked the black fire but he new that if his family found out about him playing with the freaky powers they wouldn't be happy and then he wouldn't be able to.

It was now the 30th of July, and although it was Harry's birthday tomorrow, that meant no change in his routine, so at almost 12.00 at night he was in the kitchen dong Dudley's art project _(research one famous artist, describe three pieces of their work and explain why you like it) _which his lazy cousin had told him about 2 hours ago and he was ordered by his aunt to do it now even though it wasn't due until school started again in a month, but at least he liked Andy Warhol's pictures.

His uncle came into the kitchen a minute later and started to hunt through the fridge for some food to eat. As the clock struck 12 a burning intense pain erupted from his shoulders and his uncle looked over when he gave out a cry of pain. Something was happening to him! His uncle was shouting at him and that _there's something happening to the freak!_ and to keep Dudley in the front room.

His aunt came rushing in shutting the door tight behind her and Harry could see her looking disproving through tear-filled and hazy vision while his uncle was bellowing about freaks and the injustices of having one in the house. His head was buzzing and that feeling of being on fire spread all over his skin, centring deep in the bones of his shoulder blades with, nausea rolling in his stomach.

Suddenly the ain spiked and he felt like his back was being split open as with a crack his skin ripped and something burst out of it. His shoulders suddenly felt heavy and weighed down but the pain was fading to tingles on only his back and the feeling of sickness left. He wiped his eyes and suddenly realised it had gone deadly silent.

He looked up at his aunt and saw she was pale white and staring at him with unhidden fear. His uncle looked livid and horrified at the same time and was also staring- he didn't seem to have recovered enough to say anything. As he eyes cleared he noticed something black n his peripheral on both sides. Quickly he swung round, twisting his torso but there was nothing there.

Something wasn't right though, his weight was all wrong and something was moving with him. His aunt had given another squeal when he'd twisted around so he turned slowly reaching behind him and touching the black 'things'. They felt soft and warm as though they were alive, but they had a smooth gloss to them, almost like… feathers.

As his eyes took them in he couldn't quite believe it- wings! He had wings! Raven black like his hair and so beautiful he looked like a fallen angel. They were connected to his shoulders by a limb about as thick as his upper arm and half as long with a muscled wide base that covered his shoulder blades, with light dusty grey feathers on his skin that faded to pale white as they ended.

The top of the wings was about halfway up the back of his head and they angled down so the tips brushed the floor 2 feet behind where he knelt as they were folded closed. Flexing them, he raised them out and was astounded at the size, they looked bigger than him each and the wingspan was over 3 metres.

He turned away and his eyes locked with his uncles and suddenly fear flooded him. If he was a freak before what was he now? The panic it caused resulted in his black fire bursting over his shoulder blades and wings in little tingles. It didn't burn just like it hadn't before but he could feel it there, and with his fear came the need to turn it off but he couldn't control it in the panic.

The fire seemed to be catalyst enough for his uncle who with a roar of rage grabbed a huge carving knife from the block and swung it at the base of the nearest wing. The appendages were magically strong but he hacked away with force, ignoring the screaming chid and flames that scorched his hands as he attacked them.

Even as Harry was swung against the wall and the other wing attacked he couldn't control anything enough to stop his uncle, partly because he _was_ a freak and he shouldn't have wings and didn't want his family to hate him. Soon the kitchen wall was blackened and the floor blooded, and Aunt Petunia screams and Harry's wails and Vernon's roars of rage echoed around the room.

The bone was all held the wings connected to Harry but it wouldn't break and the cracks healed up instantly. Uncle Vernon was shouting _no more freakishness in my house! _and Harry hurt so much that he could hardly think because he wanted the wings and the powers but Harry's mind was breaking again like that little glass shard and Freak didn't want the wings because that's why it hurt and Freak was creepy ad weird and his family hated him.

So Freak took all off Harry's powers and his beautiful wings and his little black fire and ran away to the back of his mind and with him the wings snapped back into his back and the feathers faded into his skin on his shoulder blades and he stopped bleeding, though his back was still mottled with bruises from hitting the wall and it still hurt.

Slowly the noise died down and Harry was quickly shoved back in his cupboard where he tried to remember what had happened. He definitely hit the wall at some point, maybe he fell? Yes, that was quite likely. There was red paint on the floor which he'd probably spilled because he was sure he was doing a project about art… and when he hit the wall it all splattered on there as it was already over him from when he'd dropped it… and that was why he was in the cupboard now.

He vaguely remembered being called a freak and had a funny feeling that had happened before. It was something to do with something that was his fault he was sure. Hadn't some weird stuff happened recently like his teachers hair being dyed mid-lesson? And hadn't he ended up on the roof? But that wasn't odd was it, he must have just hit his head and forgotten- that did happen a lot. Plus the hair had nothing to do with him did it?

It didn't matter though, he was 6 now! With that thought, Harry rolled over and went to sleep.

* * *

-September 1988-

_8 years old_

Harry had lived with some peace for over 2 years since Freak's birth and was relatively content with his life at the Dursleys for all it was depressing. In the mornings he got a piece of toast and could use the bathroom for 5 minutes to get dressed and washed after one of his classmates had complained he smelt.

At school he enjoyed his lessons immensely but lost his lunch to his cousin (unless he could sneak an apple or roll of bread in his pocket) and then got chased round the playground by the other kids, the prize was to get beaten up. After he got home he was given a list of chores when Missy came out and then sent for a short shower whilst his family ate what he had cooked.

While his cousin played and watched TV with his parents he had to do the homework (Dudley's first) and then clean the living room as Missy. If Freak slipped out and did some magic (not that he ever showed his wings from compete paralysing fear) then Freak would have his back slashed open in long lines with a blade.

Boy would come out if Harry ever did or was perceived to have done something wrong and took and heavy beating, or if Vernon was drunk he would be beaten and whipped mercilessly for several hours. Luckily, Boy had always had extraordinary self healing magic and was usually fine but for a few bruises by morning which Harry passed off as nothing.

Of course, this for Harry was fairly peaceful as his whole life seemed perfectly normal, though he understood his relatives disliked him. The only abnormal tin was his massive intelligence which was not only vast but also mature years more than his age. He took pride in his school work and his and Dudley's homework as he really enjoyed learning.

His aunt and uncle hadn't found out up to now as his report cards had been systematically burned for years, but his teachers labelled him a prodigy. At school all the teachers loved him and often commented on his maturity, high level of understand and artistic talent. This year they finally contacted his family about his success, which had never been shown enough in class for Dudley to do more than call him a geek, both praising their nephew and offering he be bumped up a grade.

That night he was called into the kitchen with his only his uncle present, but he was sitting down so Boy didn't automatically shift out.

"What is _this?"_ he demanded, showing Harry the letter. Harry read it and for a moment wondered if his family would like him now. Maybe they'd take him out for the day and buy him ice cream but then he looked at his uncles face and realised that wouldn't happen. He knew they were going to punish him for once and he wouldn't be normal anymore.

It wasn't _fair. _He liked being clever an teachers liking him and drawing well! His uncle started to shout and rave about how he was a dirty little cheat and how he had been swapping work with Dudley and that he was lying to everyone like a nasty little boy. That he was a thief for stealing Dudley's artwork and that he was to stop doing it or else.

He didn't know what this 'or else' was, but fear flashed through him as he remembered the last time Uncle Vernon had shouted like his. He couldn't quite recall… but he'd taken something from him! Something that had kept him warm on cold days and lit up the corners of the cupboard and made his eyes all clear so he hadn't needed glasses and whatever it was it was gone.

Harry didn't want to lose his art or his intelligence, he didn't want it taken away so when his head started to hurt he pushed and with a snap like breaking glass Alex was forced away like Freak had run, taking all his intelligence and creativity with him.

Harry was left with the thought of once being clever but not remembering how it was done. His fingers lost the dexterity he'd had from playing piano and he became 'just Harry' once more. Boy quickly took over for the long beating Harry was given.

Alex took all of Harry's maturity and was in fact 5 years older than Harry. Unlike Boy, Missy and Freak however, Alex could still age himself at the same rate Harry did which made him much more healthy and a much more defined character.

Alex was quiet, and mostly like to read, but his knowledge was vast. He was an astounding puzzle solver and had enough logic to work almost anything out mathematically. Where he failed however was problems involving people, as socially Alex was extremely stunted. He couldn't understand emotions very well and motives were difficult making him borderline Asberger's Syndrome.

Looking around himself, Alex saw a fairly large room that looked like a library cross bedroom. The walls were covered almost entirely with books, every book he'd ever read and books assigned to things he knew. Alex grinned- access to this would give him a eidetic memory.

There was an easel in the corner with canvases and paints around along with pencils and sketchbooks, and the back wall was open glass looking out into scenes Harry or the others had seen- a woodland, a beach he'd seen a photo once. They slowed to a stop when he focused so he could draw when he thought.

There was a pale blue with an oak headboard and a ultramarine comforter. Leaving though the matching oak door he walked into a larger round room. Leaving the door open. It had wooden floors, cream leather sofas and armchairs and a glass coffee table. Equally spaced with his own (his name was written neatly on it) were three other doors.

To the left of his was a wood and frosted glass door that looked like the one to the kitchen at Privet Drive, labelled with 'Freak' written in what looked like blood by a messy hand. Opening it he found a roughly 6 year old boy with tattered and bleeding black wings hanging from his shoulders and neat slashes down his back sobbing under a blooded kitchen table.

The whole room was exactly like the kitchen, except the walls, floors cupboards and even the ceiling was splattered with blood in varying degrees of wetness. The room was a sad sight, but Alex knew he couldn't do anything. It was Freak's room and he had to fix the problems.

Patting him on the arm lightly (Freak didn't flinch) Alex strode out and moved onto the next door. This one was a pale pink painted wood like a girls bedroom, complete with 'Missy' written in pink and gold sequins. Inside everything was pink and gold. The walls, table and chairs and duvet were pink, whilst the bed and comforter, silk curtains around the bed and on the patio doors were gold.

The patio led to an equally sized greenhouse full of plants and small shrubs. Missy was in the greenhouse repotting her roses and Alex decided to leave quickly and see if she could talk later. As he walked out he noticed that all the room was ordered meticulously, and completely spotless.

On his way out, Alex noticed that there was a mirror on the inside wall of Missy's room, whilst from the lounge it was a window that could see into the young girls room. Alex guessed the two way mirror was an elaborate metaphor for the fact Harry could sort of access the memories of what Missy was up when she was doing her chores.

The final door was clearly the scratched and broken door of the cupboard under the stairs. Carved into it as though with someone's nails and in big childish letter was the name 'Boy'. Alex opened the door and flinched at the smell of blood, infection and poor hygiene. Boy was covered in bruises and blood that oozed yellow pus, rocking back and forwards silently crying.

As Alex reached to touch Boy he flinched and dashed to the back of the cupboard sobbing louder now and crying out that he'd be good and not to hurt him. Biting his lip, Alex fled to his own room and shut the door, deciding to paint to take his mind off his companions condition.

* * *

-January 1991-

_10 years old_

Uncle Vernon liked to complain all the time. Common complaints were things like the news, traffic, young people on the streets, mental heath care, drugs and his nephew, in increasing degrees of frequency, vehemence and hate. There was one thing that came higher than Harry Potter on the list however- homosexuals.

The Dursleys were protestants, however they had never been particularly active about the faith. They went to church from time to time and were known to pray but the only thing they followed particularly were the opinions or any people with magic (their nephew) and people who were gay.

The very idea seemed to make Vernon burn with hate and revulsion, enough for them to be almost abnormal and verbally abuse a gay couple that had moved in a house 2 streets away several years ago, and promptly moved out again 6 months later.

As a younger child Harry had never really thought much about it, but since he'd understood it a little in last few years this seemed to antagonise him- not that he'd ever do anything about it. Personally he'd never really understood anything wrong about it, though it wasn't as though he had ever gone to church (freaks weren't allowed in) so there had never been a problem.

At 10 years Harry had had a few childhood crushes on others, not that they'd ever known about it, and they had always been on other boys. He'd always liked to think that it had been some rebellious little act but deep down, really he sort of knew he was gay, not that he'd ever act on it. His uncle would kill him!

It was when Uncle Vernon was shouting in the front room about a campaign to lower the underage homosexual consent age that the conflict in his mind hit its peak. His head was hurting from all the thinking and he couldn't decide if he really was so much more of a freak or if this was really okay or if he should be okay even if his uncle wasn't or if this should be hidden away 'till his death.

When Daniel snapped off Harry's personality it longer, like Alex and to an extent Missy, than the younger alters and thus had a much more developed personality. He was not on the pre-pubescent attractions of Harry, but also the most affectionate of the alters. He was socially much more developed that Alex and Harry, and was much happier than the others.

Daniel was roughly 3 years older than Harry, making him 13 now, but could act just as old as Alex around others. His room had a plain white door, with yellow walls inside. There were photographs on the walls with the few people Harry had been partners with in class and some of his favourite teachers that he sometimes talked to.

There was a comfy armchair in the corner, but Daniel went out into the main lounge and after looking interestingly at his companions, settled on the couch to watch Harry.

* * *

-July 1991-

_11 years old_

Harry was a wizard! A big man called Hagrid had told him he could do magic and everything, but now in the wand shop none of the wands were doing anything. What if he wasn't magic at all? If he didn't even have a tiny bit of magic he'd have to stay at the Dursleys and there would be no magical world with a school and dragons!

Desperately, Harry wished and hoped for just a little bit of magic when he thought his head would burst from the tension he waved a wand and the boxes he was pointing at flew out onto the floor. Freak had opened a window between them (not that Harry knew), just enough to give him access but not enough that Harry would be a freak and have wings to make him not normal.

Inside his mind Alex was observing the newly formed window which looked a little like Missy's except it was tinted green and was glass on both sides, whilst Daniel was smiling on the sofa as Harry continued to try wand after wand with different destructive results. Finally he found the Phoenix wand and the boy frowned questioningly at his companion for an explanation.

Alex came and sat back in his favourite chair but made no move to pick up his book.

"Do you think there's anything wrong with that? If this You-Know-Who killed our parents and everyone he can't be a very nice person." asked Daniel.

"I'm sure it doesn't mean anything, Dan." Alex replied. "The connection itself could be based on the scar, or some miscellaneous factor like power level or skill. Maybe Voldemort has wings like Freak, or he was clever like me or he happens to be related to Harry in some way. It doesn't have to mean anything, we'll be exactly whoever we want to."

Daniel nodded, thinking that Harry was nice and completely innocent and it wasn't as though Alex were going to be _wrong._

* * *

-September 1991-

_11 years old_

When the Sorting Hat were placed on Harry's head and told him he would do well in Slytherin, his already shattered mind broke once more. The thought of being a _dirty cheating evil slimy snake_ scared Harry more than anything. He wanted to be in Gryffindor with the Weasleys he'd met on the train and have a family and people who cared for him. He didn't want to be a mass murderer who shared wand cores with the last one or sit with horrible Draco Malfoy, but that's what he _was. _

An inherent part of Harry was Slytherin and it was a big piece broken in the short time before the hat called Gryffindor, which meant that Cobra took only the negative emotions that Harry was flooded with right now. Cobra was not nice, he hated nearly all people and was openly disdainful with most.

Amusement and other peoples perceived failings and the brief thrill of winning something or coming out on top were as positive as he got as he was inherently selfish. Harry and the other alters came under his protective circle but that didn't mean he liked them, even if he cared about them.

Cobra was clever, not Alex clever, but he had a much greater knowledge of human motivations and emotions even if he could not display them himself. He could manipulate people and situations into anything, and he took with him all of Harry's knowledge of magical politics, history and pureblood society that he'd studied for later use.

Looking around his room, Cobra was pleased to see dark green walls, with a black and green bed, books about psychology, business and those he'd read on wizarding info were shelved by a neat black marble desk with silver trim and leather spinning desk chair. There was a snake in a tank on the bedside wall that looked fairly content.

The door burst open to reveal two others, a glasses and school uniform wearing messy haired 16 year old with book in hand, and a 14 year old teenager with fashionably styled hair wearing a red chequered shirt and a red hoodie over blue jeans and converse.

Cobra himself had the sophisticated look of a 16 year old pureblood heir, wearing a green shirt casually open, black waistcoat and black slacks with a very dark green robe over the top. Hs hair was pulled back with magic to look stylish and slightly curled as the ends.

"Cobra right?" the younger boy asked. "I'm Daniel, the people guy, and this is Alex, the prodigy. Yu coming through?"

Sneering at the bad grammar Cobra sat himself comfortably on the armchair farthest from the others (Daniel sat across him on a sofa and Alex on the armchair next to it) and listened to the others give him the rundown on the other personalities.

When Daniel finally stopped trying to ask him about himself or became offended by his openly snide remarks he made to get up, but was stopped by Alex.

"Do you want to play a game of chess?" he asked as though desperate for a half decent opponent.

Cobra thought it over, sizing the kid (who was actually the same age) over condescendingly before nodding. They were actually fairly equal matched, as although Alex was undoubtedly better at the game, Cobra could read him quite well and in return was almost impossible to read. After 6 games won 3 and 3 they called it a draw. Maybe it wouldn't be so horrific with these two.

* * *

-September 1991 - June 1992-

_First Year _

Harry's first year was very difficult, when he found that what he was; 'just Harry', and what the world wanted; 'The Boy-Who-Lived', were two very different things. In the first months at school it was okay as he was new and nobody scrutinized him to much, they were just happy he was there.

As things settled down however, it was harder to cope as people kept expecting him to do something amazing and he wasn't. His magic was mediocre, he didn't want to work hard and it was still all new to him. People expected him to do things and know things but he still didn't understand lots of things.

Ron was a godsend. He loved helping out with Harry and explaining things and he was someone Harry could doss about with and enjoy the time of. Whenever Daniel came out he found he like Ron as well, though he saw him as a younger brother, although he hoped that he would get over his envy for everything Harry had soon.

Cobra obviously hated Ron with a passion, but the others wouldn't let him out around the redhead and so it wasn't too bad. Missy quite liked him but would prefer a girl to play with and Boy and Freak never came out of their rooms. Alex just wanted to psychoanalyse the poor child.

Cobra and Alex had been taking alternate nights to get to the library and study. Missy was given the task of sneaking there and back as she was the most silent, and liked being given the task of walking the castle without getting caught or else- they even let her clean some of the dust up on the way back!

Cobra obviously focused on history and politics, along with specifically the last war and Grindelwald's war which he was fascinated by. He wanted to learn as much about Voldemort as possible a he was obviously a severe threat to them. The task was difficult however as nobody seemed to know where the man had come from. Alex on the other hand was trying to read through the whole library in the time they were at Hogwarts.

The year passed fairly calmly for the alters however it was difficult for Harry himself. He started to were a mask when he was around others, making him recklessly run after a troll to save Hermione, dive down after a Rememberall for a boy he barely knew who wasn't present, and agree to a Midnight Duel which resulted in a run in with a three headed dog.

Cobra was obviously astounded by their hosts idiocy but there was little he could do in either case. He had been asleep during the Halloween feast and buy the time Dan had thought to wake him the troll was down. The midnight wander hadn't phased him since he'd guessed there would be no duel anyway, and he wasn't about to fight a Cerberus. Plus, for all he was graceful, he knew flying wasn't his thing.

The mystery with the Philosophers stone however was much more fun uncover. Alex and Cobra had many arguments in the lounge that had Dan scampering away to his bedroom about who was stealing it and why and what it was, along with what the protections were likely to be. They both had it figured by Christmas but Cobra made Alex keep mum to see if Harry could work it out on his own.

Hermione was seen as a much better friend than Ron by everyone; Missy because she was a girl, Alex for her brains, Cobra thought she was slightly less frustration inducing than Ron and Daniel liked her passion, but thought she still needed to tone it down a little.

Harry seemed to be becoming more and more bi-polar with his personality flicking backwards and forwards between the Boy-Who-Lived and Harry. It all came to a head the night they came back from detention in the forest, as he paced back and forth in front of the fire.

_Protect the stone or protect myself? _he argued back and forth for minutes in his head as he aimlessly threw out his ideas on the stone at Ron and Hermione. With a crack of glass his two personalities split into Harry who slid back into his mind and slept, and Alias, the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

The connection between Harry and Alias was much closer than any of the others as they had spent so much time breaking. Harry was still half conscious in his mind, and when Alias slid back Harry would believe everything he had done was him. So as the Golden Boy rampaged in justice about protecting the stone and _Voldemort's going to steal it!_ Harry was like the voice in the back of Alias' head about how dangerous it would be, and vice versa.

When Alias went to bed, he found himself in what was now a 7 door-ed circular lounge with 4 people waiting on the black lounge. A 14 year old teenager was snuggled up with a round faced dark haired girl who looked about 5.

On the chair next to them was a nerdy 16 year old wearing square glasses a Gryffindor uniform (minus the robe) holding a book. Unlike him the boy had a square cut fringe, but like him the rest of his dark hair was messy. A teen the same age but looked slightly older in his pureblood-esque wizarding robes sat on his right but his chair was pushed back away from the circle slightly, nearer the wall.

Alias sat himself casually on a loveseat across from the nerds chair with an armchair on either side. His own hair was longer than Harry's but considerably more windswept, he was taller much more bulked up and much more confident. His scar was blood red and his hair hung naturally to the side of it, and he had the classic Boy-Who-Lived, round glasses.

The smiley teenager introduced himself as Daniel (_call me Dan though_), the young girl as Missy who gave a bright smile and a wave, the nerd as Alex, and the sneering rich - heir as Cobra- bloody snake.

Alias' own room was the re-enforced glass wall section with a patio door that led to a duelling and weapon room with a chaise-lounge in the corner with a red and gold sleeping bag. The whole room was covered in various red and gold and Gryffindor paraphernalia.

At the end of Harry's first year came to a head with Alias' battle to the death with Quirrelmort and the train journey back to the Dursleys. No-one wanted to go back except Missy who wanted to clean the garden again. The alters prepared themselves and Harry as best they could for their relatives torture.

* * *

-November 1992-

_Second Year_

Time seemed to stop for Harry as everyone in the hall stared at him. It was the day of Lockhart's Duelling Club and Snape had just told the snake to stop attacking Justin, but he couldn't understand why they all looked at him with fear. Ron and Hermione quickly dragged him off and explained. Parseltongue was a gift of Salazar Slytherin and Harry didn't want to be anything Slytherin.

He'd never seen anything wrong with talking to snakes, he'd done it before but if it was going to make people look at him like that he just wouldn't use it. But as the year went on people still wouldn't forgive him of it, and it got worse as more people were attacked. When he (though really it was Alias) faced the Basilisk he realised how much of a freak he was.

Not only was he a Parselmouth but he'd just killed the king of serpents. As much as he didn't want to be a Slytherin there were parts of him, deep down that liked all animals and snakes were a particular favourite. It wasn't until Dumbledore told him he'd gotten the gift from Voldemort that he realised how much he didn't want it at all, not just not use it.

He cast the gift away as far as he could, deep into the part of him that was most Slytherin, and Cobra suddenly found he could talk to his beloved mental pet snake. He took it through to show (traumatise) the others, but found that although Alias now sneered at him, and Missy shrieked and ran to her room, Alex was unfazed as always, and Dan actually smiled fondly at him!

Cobra narrowed his eyes and spent the next 20 mins giving intense details of every flaw the younger teen had and putting emphasis on his revulsion at them. Alias found this hilarious, mocking both of them along the way whilst Alex seemed to be happy things were back to normal and got back to his Rubik's Cube.

* * *

-July 1994-

_13 - 14 years old_

The summer between his 3rd and 4th year was a hard time for Harry. Whilst his alters were fairy happy in themselves, apart from the fact that none of them could get Daniel to shut up about how lovesick he was over pretty boy Diggory that they'd played a match against last year. Cobra was apparently ready to lynch the man. Even Alex agreed.

Although Harry had always known about his parents deaths, it had never really upset him. As a child he'd grown up thinking they were horrible and rarely thinking about them, and once he knew about their deaths it had been straight into the wizarding world and magic so he never had time to think about it.

After spending a year thinking about their voices as they died, getting the map and talking to them with Lupin and Sirius, had Harry really grieving for the first time. The odd thing was, Harry never had been mentally 'healthy' due to all his abuse as a child and his DID so instead of being sad and crying, Harry became self-destructive.

And there was nothing any of the alters could do about it. The couldn't comfort him or talk to him, other than the odd thought from Alias but there connection was still not strong enough to break through when Harry started to really fall into a rage with himself.

The letters from Sirius helped and hindered- although he made Harry feel happier and dragged him away from thinking it didn't help that as a connection to Harry's parents, and with the boy still feeling guilty over the losing Pettigrew could sometimes be as bad, and Harry wasn't about to open up to the man with his feelings.

It didn't help matters when Harry was caught by his aunt after a wet dream, causing her to scream and throw a mop she had been carrying at him. When his uncle found out his was informed that freaks like him should be more grateful and not disrespect the good household he lived in and that he was probably a queer to boot.

This ultimately caused Harry to bury and sexual thoughts as far as he could, where Daniel had to drag them out of, deciding to take them for himself, when he was told what had happened several hours after. But Harry's treatment didn't get any better even though he forgot all about the experience.

His uncle was upset for Aunt Marge's magical trauma and took it out on his nephew nightly. Boy spent a lot of the holiday out, but at mealtimes and early evenings it was a constant repetition of everything Missy blocked out along with various comments about how if he weren't such a freak his might be alive and he could live a freaky life with them.

Being told that even 'his lot' didn't want him and he was sent back here every year buried itself in his head and ate away at him. He soon found that he could sleep easier when he was covered in bruises and had sprained wrists (he still didn't know where he got them) and it wasn't long before in his desperation to feel something, do something he took it a step further.

The first time he cut himself was when his mind snapped again. Xavier pushed the innocent happy teenager away to sleep while he continued putting neat lines in his inner forearm. Suddenly he felt better about himself. He had done something and it cleared his mind.

Harry was able to focus again and didn't feel guilty at all. Xavier's job was done and he settled back into his room, while Harry was feeling more peaceful. A thin magical glamour settled over cuts like it sometimes did over the worst of Boy's and Freak's wounds- out of sigh, out of mind. Harry's mind anyway.

The other alters were busy looking at the new black door labelled 'Xavier' in the lounge. The door was open and they could see him sat in the corner staring at the wall. When Daniel hesitantly called his name the alter slammed his door hard, giving the clear message that he didn't want to talk.

* * *

**AN-**** Chapter end!**

**Okay, any questions, suggestions or comments you have would be appreciated in a review, or feel free to Pm me.**

**_Alters-_  
Boy; Takes Punishment. Born at 4, stays 4 years old.  
Missy; Does Chores. Born at 5, stays mature 5 years old.  
Freak; Punished for Magic/Wings. Born at 6, stays 6 years old.  
Alex; Prodigy-Clever and Creative. Born at 8, 5 years older than Host.  
Daniel; Gay, Affectionate and Socially Adept. Born at 10, 3 years older than Host.  
Cobra; Slytherin but Antisocial. Born at 11 (hat), 5 years older than Host.  
Alias; Gryffindor Golden Boy. Born at 11 (forest), 3 years older than Host.  
Xavier; Self Destructive (self-harm). Born at 14, same age as Host.  
_Host-_  
Harry; Innocent and charming. Friendly but begins to struggle wit lack of emotions.  
**

**I think people will find my work cliche to begin with, (Boy, Missy, Alex and Cobra are pretty common), however the reasons why and obviously Freak and Xavier will make this a little different. Its gonna take time for this to heal, and the rooms will need to be 'cleaned up' metaphor for their mental state before they can fuse. **

**Anyhow, Review and PM, cookies for those who can guess the reason behind every name!**

**All the best, C.A. xxx**


	2. Slytherin Games

**AN-****Short Starter Chapter coming up! Its not my best work, but I'm still getting into this. If anyone has any good suggestions, feel free to email me.**

**Hope yu enjoy it :)**

* * *

-August 1995-

_15 years old_

Not much had changed since Xavier's appearance in the alters world, though there had been drastic changes in the real world. The last year had been hard on them all, with Alex working hard to research all they could for Alias as fight dragons and merpeople. He wanted back up plans incase Harry's fragile plans collapsed, many of which did in the third task.

Daniel had spent the majority of his time balanced equally between mooning over Cedric whilst Harry had been going for the more socially correct Cho Chang, and working with Alias on how to act around the other students and to the officials and champions. They had to come across as strong but modest and each person could read them differently.

Cobra helped them with that, but was mainly focused on working out Voldemort's plot. It was no longer a game while Harry was tested, he needed to know how it was going to lay out. He's known about Barty since the man tried to break into Snape's stores, but he couldn't do anything about it because they needed to know the whole thing.

Unfortunately, none of them had predicted the cup and when Harry was whisked off to see Voldemort's rebirth, there was little they could do. When Harry's scar had burned Alias had been slammed back into the room, knocking him out temporarily. The more the scar burned, the more they were blocked so Cobra couldn't get out either.

Alex quickly sent Missy to hold Freak's door open so he couldn't shut it and slip out, whilst he and Xavier held Boy's. Cobra was busy trying to force his own door shut and switch out while Dan was reviving Alias. Eventually when Voldemort stopped focusing on causing Harry pain through the scar and started to duel Cobra could leap out and dodge a few Cruciatus' and get hit by several.

Finally Alias woke and leapt out to take over with the duel, getting hit by the first two Unforgivables before the wands connected. It took 4 days for Cobra to wake up, as he had never felt pain before and the 6 times under Voldemort's wand was a harsh way to get used to it. Alias was up in 2 days, but they were all tired.

The final month passed with them all (Cobra, Xavier, Alias, Alex, Dan and Missy) spends huge amounts of time out because Harry struggled to cope. Luckily, most people put his lack of words and fluctuating mood down to trauma.

Summer had continued much the same way, with Xavier slipping out every few days when the guilt over Cedric got two much, Boy and Freak keeping Vernon busy nightly- this time in punishment for the Weasleys visit, and the others trying as hard as possible to keep Harry sane and functional. This was a hard task.

Harry was running out of emotions but anger and helplessness when his happy innocent side was hiding away because of all his alters. He'd become a sort of blank mask for all of them to hide behind and didn't seem to have much left in him any real feelings. Shouting and screaming was his only real release left.

When he arrived at Grimmauld Place that was what he did. Bellowing about everything he remembered happening and how selfish his friends were helped a lot, and for a moment he could think again. It was that night in the kitchen that things went wrong.

Daniel, Cobra, Alex and Alias had been arguing solidly for 30 mins over whether they should tell someone anything. It had been a big meeting that night and both Professors Snape and McGonagall had stayed for dinner. This had prompted Cobra to suggest they tell someone about his to make it easier so that people stopped looking at them suspiciously.

Daniel had tentatively agreed it might be a good idea but Alex and Alias had actually agreed on something- that they should definitely keep this to themselves. Finally Cobra had told Daniel to distract them while he ran for his room and forced his way out.

He could feel the others talking at the same time so ignored them and finished Harry's meal. Things were noticeably awkward. Sirius and Snape were glaring at each other with Lupin trying to distract the dog father and McGonagall the Potions Professor.

Molly was scolding the twins, Kingsley was talking to Arthur, and Tonks was giving the girls nose changing but everyone else was keeping quiet, glancing at each other and trying not to laugh, cry or roll their eyes. Cobra wasn't so considerate, throwing in a condescending snort and leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed at the ankles, elbows on the chairs arms, fingers steepled. It was this action - so unlike Harry - that caught everyone's attention.

At there looks he raised an eyebrow at them, before turning back to Snape with a look of being unimpressed. The Professor sneered in disgust before snarling, "Is there something that thing you call a brain cannot understand, Potter?"

Cobra smirked coldly, before replying. "Only the fact that you're about as unsubtle as Gryffindor running across shattered glass and getting his feet cut. Ever heard of a mask Professor?"

The occupants of the room seemed to simultaneously frown at his actions whilst staring at the boy as though he'd grown several heads, one of which was that of a Chinese Fireball. Cobra watched confusion cross his opponents face, pleased to see a reaction, before it slid back into its customary sneer.

"And you are the epitome of subtlety" Snape drawled sarcastically.

"Of course" Cobra replied coldly, "I'm surprised you cannot work it out, dear _sir__"_

Lupin's excellent hearing picked up on the change in the boys breathing and heart rate, but was confused by the fact he still had the same scent. Both he and Moody had their wands close to hand however, the latter pointing it directly at his back. McGonagall could see there was something wrong, but knew Snape could handle himself, so she only watched closely.

The Weasleys looked out of their depth, with the kids looking scared at their friends apparent behaviour. Sirius was also looking confusedly at his godson. Snape looked the boy up and down noticing the changes instantly. The hairs on the back of his neck rose indicating this wasn't someone he should overlook.

"What are you playing at _Potter_?" he asked, testing the waters. He knew this was Harry Potter due to his earlier behaviour, but the changes were so sudden and drastic it gave him pause for thought. Snape had a greater understanding of muggle mental health than anyone else in the British Wizarding Community and this was sending up alarm bells. He had several theories, but started with the least likely.

Sirius leapt to his feet instantly, "What are you accusing my godson of Snape?" but dropped back to his from the look Cobra gave him.

"Sit down you useless mutt, and stay away from what you can't begin to understand."

Sirius flinched as though physically hit but silenced immediately. The other kids were looking decidedly worried, but Molly looked angry at his rudeness. She was about to speak up but Arthur put a hand on her arm to silence her.

Cobra smirked, hearing the emphasis on his name, Snape was asking a different question. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Snape's face seemed to fall a little. He might not care for the boy, and there was every chance the attention seeking prat was faking this (as was often seen) but there was definitely enough trauma to lead to it, and the war was to important to overlook any mental health condition.

"Your not Potter, are you?" he said, with a completely blank face. Most of the room looked at him like he was mad, but Lupin and Kingsley raised their eyebrows as though they understood the possibilities.

"Give the man a medal!" Cobra drawled. "You know the game, dear sir, I'm not going to tell you anything unless you get me something in return.

"Who are you?" Snape started.

"My name is Cobra" the boy said whilst glancing at his nails. '_Original__'_ the Professor muttered. Cobra smirked. "I'd thought so. Why did you save Harry in our first year?"

"I knew his mother." Snape snapped with a closed expression. The students all looked over shocked, while most looked confused. Lupin smiled slightly- a good thing he wasn't seen or he'd have he killed by Snape- whilst Sirius still hadn't gotten over the Slytherinesque-Harry thing. "How were you born?"

"Little Harry didn't like the fact that the hat thought he was a snake so he threw all of me out. I got all the interesting bits like power plays and manipulations and even Parseltongue after second year, but admittedly split to fast so I am missing some key emotions like true happiness and the ability to give a fuck about people who aren't us, but I know my faults. Do you know yours? What was your biggest mistake?"

Snape paused and looked visibly stressed. Slytherins do not like being in positions they cant predict and this definitely was one. Someone who had watched him which he hadn't watched himself around, in front of people he hid himself from and playing the Slytherin-Truth-Game with a being designed to do it that also had some conveniently warped morals.

He persevered, diplomatically replying with, "Joining the Death Eaters" and hoping that he'd imagined the pleasurable gleam in Cobra's eye which meant he'd found the lever. " Describe your least favourite alter."

Cobra snorted disdainfully. "Daniel, easily. Born from the fact Potter can't handle that he's gay." Ron actually chocked at this point. "He smiles and makes friends. Admittedly he's rather good at reading and consoling people but just because he's more socially developed does not make me want to spend more than the bare minimum time in his presence."

He wiped the expressions off his face- one point to Snape he managed to get a reaction out of him. But Snape had already lost he just didn't see it yet. "Why did you hate James Potter?" Snape stiffened and seemed to be doing some fast thinking.

By the 'rules' of the game you could ask any question and they had to answer truthfully or their opponent could also lie. The game itself was like a spell that locked the two players together whilst the game was in play. You could give a part answer, but the other could also reply with one if they noticed it and wanted to.

The only answer that had to be given fully was a yes/no. At that point they could end or play on but end at any time after the first yes/no. A good player would wait till they found a reaction, and then ask around to find the true 'lever'.

Snape hedged and gave a part answer. "He was an arrogant swine that made my childhood hell." Giving a longer answer gave the impression it was full, but Cobra already knew the answer, so he knew it was part. "Which is the most emotionally damaged alter and why?"

Cobra smirked. "That would be Xavier." Snape tensed again, knowing he'd lost. But by how far? "Why do you hate Harry Potter?" the boy looked downright demonic with the glint in his eye and sly smirk on his face. If Dumbledore were there he'd compare the boy to Tom Riddle.

Snape hesitantly went for another part answer whilst the others were currently wondering when they'd find out what was going on. "He's as arrogant as his father and thinks he can get away with anything because he was a pampered little prince at home." he sneered, putting on a good act. "How many of there are you, and what are your names?"

"There are 8 of us and Harry." Cobra smiled coldly. "But forgive me if I'm wrong but I don't quite believe that's the reason is it? You hate Harry because he has Lily's eyes, and sometimes he acts like her enough that for a minute you freeze. Its like having a constant reminder of all you lost right there, isn't it?

Snape froze like prey that was desperately hoping it hadn't been spotted.

"And then you see the face of your rival and all your life's mistakes come flooding back and suddenly you can't breathe because your raging at yourself and life and the fact that your rival got to fuck your best friend when damn it, it should have been you! And ultimately Harry is the epitome of your failures in the fact that if you hadn't fucked up somehow, he'd be your son.

"But you can't bare the fact that she died and you have to protect the only thing that's left in some bizarre hunt for redemption, because you feel guilty. So you have the horror of looking after a child that you hate because you hate its father and ultimately he won. Yes or no, dear Professor?"

The room had gone deadly silent. There was something cloying hanging in the air that nobody could seem to fight as a pale Severus Snape stared at the horrible, creepy child in front of him that had just read him like a book faster than he could even get the basic facts. The first time in his life he prayed for Harry Potter, because he didn't want to answer this child.

Cobra smirked once more, feeling no remorse for this and actually feeling pleasantly thrilled with his success. Who said he couldn't psychoanalyse like Alex could? "Answer the question sir and I'll let you ask me the rest free of charge. I suppose I'll even let someone else deal with someone else if you can't face looking at me…" he let out a cold chuckle.

Snape looked conflicted. Finally he pulled it together enough to say, "Lupin takes over with the one you dislike that you mentioned earlier. And Yes." In a twirl of robes and flash of green flame the man disappeared faster in less than 10 seconds.

"I guess that means he really is on our side?" Cobra said with a delighted laugh. "Very Gryffindor for Slytherin isn't he?"

* * *

**Chapter End. **

**Review and PM please, any suggestions welcome!  
**

**All the best :D**


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